mell of the
pines is good for him, and you can talk or read or amuse yourselves in any
quiet way you like."

"Can I take Sanch along? He doesn't like to be left, and felt real bad
because I shut him up for fear he'd follow and come walkin' into meetin'
to find me."

"Yes, indeed; let the clever Bow-wow have a good time and enjoy Sunday as
much as I want my boys to."

Quite content with this arrangement, Ben went home to dinner, which he
made very lively by recounting Billy Barton's ingenious devices to beguile
the tedium of sermon-time. He said nothing of his conversation with Miss
Celia, because he had not quite made up his mind whether he liked it or
not; it was so new and serious, he felt as if he would better lay it by,
to think over a good deal before he could understand all about it. But he
had time to get dismal again and long for four o'clock, because he had
nothing to do except whittle. Mrs. Moss went to take a nap; Bab and Betty
sat demurely on their bench reading Sunday books; no boys were allowed to
come and play; even the hens retired under the currant-bushes, and the
cock stood among them, clucking drowsily, as if reading them a sermon.

"Dreadful slow day," thought Ben, and, retiring to the recesses of his own
room, he read over the two letters which seemed already old to him. Now
that the first shock was over, he could not make it true that his father
was dead, and he gave up trying, for he was an honest boy and felt that it
was foolish to pretend to be more unhappy than he really was. So he put
away his letters, took the black pocket off Sanch's neck, and allowed
himself to whistle softly as he packed up his possessions ready to move
next day, with few regrets and many bright anticipations for the future.

"Thorny, I want you to be good to Ben and amuse him in some quiet way this
afternoon. I must stay and see the Allens who are coming over, but you can
go to the grove and have a pleasant time," said Miss Celia to her brother.

"Not much fun in talking to that horsey fellow. I'm sorry for him, but _I_
can't do anything to amuse him," objected Thorny, pulling himself up from
the sofa with a great yawn.

"You can be very agreeable when you like, and Ben has had enough of me for
this time. Tomorrow he will have his work and do very well, but we must
try to help him through to-day, because he doesn't know what to do with
himself. Besides, it is just the time to make a good impression on him,
while gr